


Murder, He Wrote

by sophiria



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dark Humor, Dark Steve Rogers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Morally Grey Reader, Reader-Insert, Smut, With A Twist, dark!Reader, detective!reader, post-Endgame AU, talks of death and murders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24680077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiria/pseuds/sophiria
Summary: Steve Rogers deals with novels, murders and you.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Murder, He Wrote

As he was signing autographs at the launch of his second mystery novel, Steve looked up through his lashes and saw that you were in his orbit once again.

You looked delightful, dressed in a grey trench coat, velvety black jeans and a pair of black pumps.

_ He once drew you wearing just those and nothing else. _

Months after his first book came out, three random people had died the same way the fictional victims from his book had been described. You showed up at his office to question him about it, convinced that he had something to do with the murders. 

_ And you haven't left him alone ever since. _

"Captain Rogers," you enunciated.

He cocked his head left and eyed you boldly as he said your name. "Detective," he mused. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your delightful company?"

_ Were you here to bring charges against him or make another outrageous claim? _

"Thaddeus Ross is dead," you answered.

_ Straight to the point. _

Steve's eyes rolled skyward and shook his head. "You gotta be shitting me," he muttered as you arched a brow, amused at hearing Steve Rogers swear. 

"What does it have to do with me, Detective? I haven't seen his face in years."

"We're going over all the possible people who could have had a grudge against him," you disclosed. "And we all know what happened in 2016."

A mirthless smile surfaced on his lips. "I'm sure you do," he huffed. "But I still had nothing to do with him, Detective."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You said you hadn't seen his face in years, but Tony Stark died less than two years ago."

His brows knitted in a frown. "I'm aware of that. I was there," he retorted, mouth turning grim.

"General Ross was there too," you said. "At Tony Stark's funeral."

Steve sighed. "I haven't exchanged a word with him. He was the last person on my mind that day."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "You disappeared for weeks after it. Would you mind if I ask you again what you have done during that period?"

His eyes crossed in exasperation. "You already asked me about that, Detective. And I already told you it's top secret."

_ He was not going to tell you about his dance with Peggy and how they tried to make it work. Not yet. _

You eyed him warily. "Right," you chewed on, disapproval gleaming in your eyes. 

Steve could see a silver of emotion in your unreadable gaze, but for the first time since you two meet, he had no idea about the why. 

"This isn't over, Captain," you continued. "I'm going to need you to be available all the time and not travel outside New York City."

His lips parted slightly. "I wouldn't dream of moving away from my City, Detective," he assured you. 

He stood up from his post and closed the distance between your bodies. 

He inhaled sharply and stared down at you. "I'll be here at your disposal," he murmured, his gaze caressing your face.

You swallowed slowly and gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Then we are on the same page," you said.

He smiled down at you, a twinkle in his eye. "I hope we are."

* * *

A week after your encounter with the good Captain, you found yourself more obsessed than ever. 

It was Saturday night, and you were alone in your Brooklyn loft. 

You couldn't stop reading and researching about Steve Rogers; you wanted to know about him as much as you knew about Captain America. 

Rogers was kind and had a strong moral compass, but he could also be unforgiving and manipulative.

_ But could he be the cold-blooded killer of three different people? _

_ Maybe he had lost it. Perhaps too many years of losing friends and continuously fighting got to his head. Maybe - _

You flinched as you heard footsteps just outside your door, your mouth going dry as soon as you understood that they stopped in front of it. 

You silently grabbed your gun and stood up from your desk as the lights went out.

You didn't hear anything for a few minutes until a broad chest pressed onto your back, a gloved hand covering your mouth and nose while the other disarmed you.

"Shhh," Steve whispered. "It's just me, Detective,".

Blood rushed through your veins as your heart pounded with fear and excitement.

_ Was he here to hurt you or to kill you?  _

_ Or maybe he found out your secret? _

His fingers ghosted over your exposed neck skin. "I'm going to let you go now, but you have to be quiet," he said as he sniffed your hair. 

"Otherwise I'll have to punish you."

Steve released you slowly and flicked on the light. 

You squinted and took a good look at him. He wore an all-black ensemble, gloves, sweater, khakis and running shoes, looking more like an intruder than Captain America turned best selling author.

He smiled as he saw you ogling him, hands going over his hips. "See something you like, Detective?"

You straightened your back and held his gaze. "You just committed another felony, Captain Rogers," you remarked.

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the only one," he reasoned.

You gulped. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you grumbled.

He grinned. "Yes, you do," he countered.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. "What do you want from me?"

He walked towards you, his broad frame the only thing you could see. 

He placed one hand on your neck as the other grasped your hip.

"I think you know the answer to that," he purred. "Show me how much you want Steve Rogers."

Your heart thudded as he pushed you onto your knees. 

You unbuckled Steve's belt as you kept eye contact with him, his eyes clouded with lust. You lowered his boxers, pumped him a few times and then took him into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, your wet mouth engulfing him. He groaned as you swirled your tongue around his shaft, his right hand keeping your head in place. 

He was shaking, moans and praises spilling from his mouth. You tried to relax your mouth and flexed your throat as you deepthroated him, your hands playing with his balls. He bucked his hips and shuddered as he came into your mouth, his seed painting your lips as you released him.

He observed you through half-lidded eyes and then grabbed you from under your armpits, lifting you. 

"My turn," he husked.

He hauled you up over his shoulders and dropped you onto your bed.

"Don't move or I'll tie you up," he warned as he undressed.

You crawled away from him, but he quickly caught you by your hips and tore apart your cotton pyjamas and underwear.

"I warned you, Detective," he playfully scolded as he flipped you.

"Fuck you, Rogers," you squeaked as he grabbed your arms and tied them up behind your back with his belt.

"That damn mouth of yours..." he whispered as he manoeuvred you face flat on the bed.

He mushed your bottom cheeks with his left hand while his right one found your clit, his fingers rubbing it roughly.

You moaned into the pillow, arching your back at his touch.

He slipped a finger and then a second into your pussy. You panted and shook as he found your g-spot, coming around his fingers.

"That's it," he muttered as he kept stroking your clit, prolonging the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Rogers!" You gasped.

You felt his cock prodding your entrance. His fingers dug into your ass as he sank into you with a snap of his hips. You cried out and tried to stifle your moans and whimpers into the duvet as he slammed hard into you, the overstimulation of your clit and his cock hitting your g-spot driving you insane.

You groaned as he suddenly pulled out and yanked his belt off from your wrists. He flipped you onto your back and pulled you down on his cock once again.

"Admit it," he groaned, pounding his hips.

"You are a crazy man Steve Rogers!" You panted as you felt the orgasm approaching.

"Admit what you did!" He ordered, rubbing your clit.

"I haven't done anything!" You moaned, breath itching as you came on his cock.

He shuddered as he felt you squeezing him and pulsed inside you, his cum coating your walls. 

"Detective..." he whispered, staring fixedly at your face. "Admit it," he said, cupping your breasts and kneading them gently. 

You shivered at his touch and bit your lip. "I did it for you, Captain Rogers," you breathed. “I killed Ross.”

He smirked and then took your face between his hands. His lips brushed against yours. 

"I know you did," he rumbled. "He really had it coming, didn't he?"


End file.
